


Binary Systems

by legendtripper



Series: Detroit Evolution Artfest - July 2020 [2]
Category: Detroit Evolution (2020), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: And I Intend to Abuse its Size to the Fullest Extent, Because He Is an Angsty Boi, But In a Different Timeline I Guess, DE ArtFest, DEArtfest, Detroit Evolution Artfest, F/F, Fluff, Gavin plays guitar, I love him, Inspired by Octopunk Media's Detroit: Evolution Fan Film, It's Between DA and DE Sorta, M/M, Octopunk Media's Detroit: Awakening Fan Film, Octopunk Media's Detroit: Evolution Fan Film, Pre-Octopunk Media's Detroit: Evolution Fan Film, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, There's A Tiny RV, This Whole Trip is WLW/MLM Solidarity, Tina and Valerie are Wife Goals, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendtripper/pseuds/legendtripper
Summary: Binary System:noun- a system of two astronomical bodies close enough to orbit around a common center, often appearing as a single point of lightOR: Four disaster gays go on a road trip in a tiny RV and it goes about as well as you might expect.
Relationships: Tina Chen (Detroit: Become Human)/Valerie Morales-Chen, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Detroit Evolution Artfest - July 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884094
Comments: 19
Kudos: 80





	Binary Systems

**Author's Note:**

> Day Two for Octopunk Media's Detroit Evolution Artfest! Prompt was "Sharing a Bed" and I knew I had to include some legal ladies sapphic rep. Shoutouts to [salemforshort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salemforshort) and [DomLerrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DomLerrys/pseuds/DomLerrys) for cheering enthusiastically when I sent this to them. Y'all rock. I love you!
> 
> Mad props to [Michelle Iannantuono](https://twitter.com/ladytuono) for organizing this event! Thank you for fostering this wonderful community.

“You know, T,” Gavin says, staring at the smoking hood of the Morales-Chens’ RV, hands on his hips, “when you said you were taking us on a scenic trip of the American west, I didn’t quite think you had ‘breaking down in the middle of fucking nowhere’ in mind.”

“I _didn’t_ ,” Tina growls, inspecting the engine. “Ask Hank, he fixed the damn thing up for us.”

 _Dammit, Anderson_.

A little ways away, Valerie’s speaking frantically into her phone, seeing about the possibility of getting a tow to the nearest mechanic. Nines dutifully holds up her license and insurance papers. Like a fuckin’ clipboard.

“Hey dipshit!” Gavin calls. Nines’s head snaps up.

“Yes, Detective Reed?”

“You’re an android! You got anything about RV repair up in that brain of yours?”

Nines raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised your fragile masculinity left vehicular maintenance out of the curriculum.”

“Shut up, I’m gay and I don’t know how to drive,” Gavin retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Gavin, that is verifiably untrue, you drive me to and from the office rather frequently.”

“Oh my god, it was a fucking _joke_ , Tin Can. Learn to take one.”

“I thought it was funny!” Tina pipes up from under the wheel well.

“That’s because you are _also_ gay,” Gavin points out.

“Touché.”

A shout cuts off Nines’s inevitable buzzkill argument. It’s Valerie, gesturing violently with her hands.

“Hey babe? You okay?” Tina asks, scooting out from under the RV. Valerie holds up a finger Gavin assumes most prosecutors learn to fear.

“You’re telling me there’s nothing more you can do? _Nothing_?” She listens intently to whatever the voice on the other end of the phone says, face contorting into something resembling a cross between white-hot fury and terrible constipation. Eventually, she schools her features neutral, but Gavin can sense the rage boiling just under the surface.

“I understand,” Valerie says. “I got it. See you then.” Gavin’s worried she’ll crack her screen with the ferocity of her finger, silencing the insurance agency.

Tina winces. “How bad is it?”

“Well, there’s good news and bad news.” Valerie runs a hand through her hair, attempting to tame the flyaways whipped up by the surprisingly cool desert wind.

Gavin scowls. “What’s the good news?”

“The good news is that the tow truck’s covered by the insurance.”

Tina taps her chin. “Okay, not bad.”

“And the bad news?” Nines says, face annoyingly calm.

Valerie sighs. “The bad news is that it won’t get here till tomorrow.”

“Oh, you gotta be fucking _kidding_ me,” Gavin whines. Tina cringes in sympathy.

When Tina had invited Gavin on her autumn leave trip with her wife, Gavin had been thrilled. It had been so long since he’d gotten a break from the station, and spending time with his best friend and her wife honestly sounded like a godsend. He never felt like a third wheel with them; Tina was his ride or die academy buddy and Valerie was fucking vicious at card games and outdrank anybody Gavin had ever met in his life. Three weeks in a little RV, seeing all the sights, shooting the shit in the canyonlands.

Gavin’s idea of paradise.

He had shown up at their house the morning of, bag and guitar in hand, ready to load up, when something caught his eye. It was Nines, chatting amiably with Valerie by the front door while Tina shoved their bags in the undercarriage compartment. “T,” Gavin had said, carefully sidling up to his friend, “why in the everloving fuck is the Terminator here?”

Tina stood, shaking her hair out of its ponytail. “Valerie invited him! Thought she should get to know him better, seeing as we’re friends and all. And he doesn’t take up much space, so, I figured why not?”

“Is there any particular reason you didn’t think to inform me of this ahead of time?” Gavin fumed.

Tina shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d mind, you two seem to get along.”

And of course, Gavin couldn’t argue that Nines was the very bane of his existence without looking like a total ass, so he smiled and nodded and made nice with his partner, knowing that at least he’d get the nights to himself, holed up in some shitty hotel room.

Then the RV broke down, and all of Gavin’s carefully crafted plans of avoidance were chucked out the fucking window.

“Couldn’t we just _walk_?” he suggests, gesturing down the almost empty highway. Nines raises an eyebrow.

Valerie scoffs, looking at her phone. “I mean, if you _wanna_ walk fifteen miles, be my guest.”

Gavin’s about to bite back with something along the lines of, “I _will_ ” when Nines gives him a withering look.

“Detective Reed, I would advise against such a course of action,” he says levelly. “You haven’t had anything to eat in hours and the nighttime temperatures are supposed to reach the low thirties. The sun sets in twenty-seven minutes. Are you sure you want to take that chance?”

No. He really doesn’t, not when there’s a heated RV right there. With chairs. And snacks. And blankets. And his guitar.

Dammit.

“Ugh, fine.” Gavin bundles his hands in his pockets. “You win this round, Tin Can.”

Valerie claps her hands together. “You know what this means, right?”

Nines opens his mouth at the same time Gavin says, “Oh, no no no, we are _not_ doing this, not aga—”

“RV sleepover!” Valerie cheers, pumping her fist in the air.

Gavin groans. It’s gonna be a long night.

Taking Nines and Tina by the arms, Valerie drags them into the RV, rambling excitedly about one thing or another. Nines looks thoroughly bemused, barely even struggling in Valerie’s grip. Gavin suppresses a snort, before following them and closing the door behind him. As long as Nines is having a worse night than him, he’ll be okay.

Valerie quickly runs to her phone, pulling up a mix she reveals she had planned for this exact scenario. Mellow acoustic music fills the RV while Tina and Valerie set about making the main space presentable. Tina pulls down the table from the wall while Valerie scours the minifridge, procuring an assortment of bottles. She tosses one to Tina, who miraculously catches it without it shattering on the floor.

“Here’s your Thirium,” she says, setting what looks like an ordinary beer bottle aside from its shimmering blue contents on the table in front of Nines. “And _here_ ,” she says, fake gagging, “is your ginger beer, because you like torturing yourself.”

“Shut up, this shit’s delicious.” Gavin pops the cap a little harder than necessary, but hey, he has a point to prove. Valerie takes a seat, swiftly flicking the cap off her beer and tossing it into the trash can.

“Cheers!” she says.

Four bottles clink together in unison.

As it turns out, when everyone’s tired and half the party is slightly drunk, Gavin’s much more accommodating when it comes to a certain android detective. He only steps out for a cigarette once, the chill wind practically ripping the smoke from his lungs. Nines frowns at him when he returns, but Gavin ignores him. He’s had months of practice doing that.

Tina passes out after two beers. Although Gavin’s well aware that his former academy buddy is a fucking lightweight—and has chided her as such for the entirety of their friendship—it still amuses him that a woman of her ferocity is knocked on her ass by something as tame as an IPA.

“Well,” Valerie says, covering up a yawn, “I think I’m gonna head to bed. Could one of you…?” She gestures to the limp form of her wife, who is currently leaving a not insignificant puddle of drool on the table. Nines smiles.

“Of course.” As delicately as he can manage, Nines slots his arms behind Tina’s knees and back, lifting her in an effortless bridal carry and depositing her on the bed, Valerie trailing behind them.

Gavin snorts, knocking back the last of his drink. Fuckin’ dorks.

When Nines returns, Gavin’s cleaning up the leftover bottles, and Nines inserts himself seamlessly into the process, gathering the ones Gavin can’t hold and helping him push the table back into place. When it clicks home, Gavin brushes his hands off, admiring their handiwork.

“Not bad, Tin Can,” he says with a wry grin. “You sure you’re not a housecleaning model?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Detective Reed? I am RK900, CyberLife’s greatest feat in android tech.” Nines’s expression is stony, and for a terrible moment, Gavin worries he’s stuck his foot in his mouth, but then Nines starts _giggling_ , and Gavin’s reduced to fits of teary laughter, holding his stomach.

“ _God_.” Gavin collapses onto one of the chairs, legs refusing to cooperate any longer. “Who knew you had a sense of humor?”

“You would, if you ever bothered to stick around at work events,” Nines retorts.

Guilt lances through Gavin’s gut. “Yeah,” he says wearily, “I would.”

“It’s alright though. I don’t mind.”

But it’s clear that he does.

Gavin makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Well, since the lovebirds have claimed the only bed,” he says, jerking his thumb in the direction of the bedroom, “I guess I’ll make do on the floor. You just, uh… you do you.” He moves toward the closet to dig for pillows and a blanket. “And don’t watch me sleep, that’s fuckin’ creepy.”

Nines nods. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.”

Gavin comes away from his closet raid with a small pillow and two knit blankets. It’s not ideal, but it’ll suffice for a night. He spreads one out on the floor and positions the pillow at the top.

As Gavin settles into his little blanket nest, Nines speaks up.

“Are you planning on sleeping in your clothes, Detective Reed?”

“Luggage is under this thing and I sure as hell ain’t gettin’ it,” Gavin grumbles, though he does kick his boots off. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

“Very well.” Nines moves to shut the light off, LED glowing in the shadows. “Goodnight, Gavin.”

“Yeah. Goodnight to you too, asshole.”

Gavin does not sleep. To be fair, he usually gets next to nothing, but his usual cocktail of night terrors, sleep paralysis, and general insomnia combined with the hard RV floor and the distinct knowledge that Nines is standing not five feet from him means he can’t even bring himself to try.

After forty-five minutes of tossing and turning, Nines says, voice low, “You’re still awake.”

“So are you,” Gavin snaps. Nines hums quietly.

“My stasis is automatically stopped by movement in my surroundings.”

“Oh shit, did I wake you?” Gavin’s tirade is cut short by the overwhelming urge to apologize. “My bad, I—”

“It’s not your fault.”

That shuts Gavin up thoroughly. And now he’s very much awake, with no intentions of attempting sleep for a while yet.

A plan begins to form in Gavin’s mind. He sits up, pulling his boots back on, while Nines looks on. Bustling around Nines, Gavin picks up his blankets and snatches his guitar from under the shitty little fold-out bench.

Gavin cocks his head in the direction of the door.

“You coming or what?”

Nines blinks. “Are you planning to use your musical inclinations to barter for our freedom from some murderous trucker?”

“What— No, that’s not—” Gavin stops himself. “Just trust me, okay?”

Night has well and truly fallen by now, the sky a tapestry of midnight blues and scattered stars. The thick band of the Milky Way stretches as far as they can see. A gentle breeze has kicked up, buffeting Nines’s hair. His LED shines bright blue in the darkness.

Gavin leads him around the back of the RV, where a small steel ladder is bolted onto the metal.

“Hold these,” he says, stuffing the blankets and guitar in Nines’s arms. Wincing slightly from the cold on his palms, Gavin scurries up the ladder. When he gets to the top, he holds out a hand.

“Now, hand me the stuff.”

Nines obligingly passes him the blankets, which Gavin promptly spreads out on top of the RV, then hands over the guitar, making sure to keep a careful grip on it. Gavin smiles.

 _He really thinks of everything_.

Nines clambers up a moment later, standing awkwardly by the ladder. Gavin pats the blanket next to him.

When Nines doesn’t move, Gavin rolls his eyes. “Come _on_ , Tin Can. I don’t bite.”

“I find that hard to believe, Detective Reed,” Nines says with a wry air, but he joins Gavin all the same. Even though he doesn’t feel the cold, Nines pulls the second blanket over himself, making sure to spare the extra for Gavin.

Gavin would normally be inclined to say the warmth in his chest was from the alcohol, but the last time he drank was over a year ago, so instead, he pretends it doesn’t exist.

This far from anywhere, the world is quieter, and not just literally. Everything is softer, out here, from the sounds to the lights to the colors. Gavin’s mind, for the first time since he can’t even remember, is still.

“So what now?” Nines mumbles next to him, looking up at the stars.

Gavin, fingers numb from the freezing temperatures and maybe something else, pulls his guitar into his lap, fiddling with the strings until they’re decently tuned. Nines watches with a careful curiosity, never interrupting, but staring intently all the same.

“Any requests?” Gavin’s voice is hoarse. He swallows, hard.

Nines’s forehead creases in thought.

“Surprise me.”

Gavin laughs. “You literally have the internet in your head, there’s no way you won’t know what I’m playing.”

“But I won’t know what you will pick,” Nines says, running his fingers along the weave of the blanket. “And there’s something quite special to be said of that, I think.”

“Oh.” Gavin’s heart pounds in his chest. “Well, uh. There’s this band that was sorta popular while I was in high school, and they, um. Yeah.”

Feeling along the fretboard without a light is a challenge, but one Gavin is used to. He places the capo where he likes it, plucking out a few experimental chords. When the guitar is positioned to his liking, Gavin smiles, coughs a few times for good measure, and lets his fingers find their way.

A melancholy melody sweeps through the night air, almost swallowed by the expanse around them, but Gavin sings anyway. His voice is gravelly from disuse, but Nines closes his eyes and sways along anyway, even joining in on the chorus. (Gavin thinks he must’ve looked it up. But Nines’s voice is clear and strong, and he can’t bring himself to care.)

_And if my woman was a fire, she’d burn out before I wake, and be replaced by pints of whiskey—_

“ _Cigarettes, and outer space_ ,” Nines sings, fixing Gavin with a knowing look. Gavin averts his eyes, hoping Nines missed the stutter in the beat as his fingers miss the strings. He probably didn’t, being an android and all, but, mercifully, he just keeps singing.

When the song winds down, Nines doesn’t clap. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just stares at Gavin with an unreadable expression. Gavin, cheeks burning, sets the guitar aside, pulling his knees into himself and huddling under the blanket.

It might just be his imagination, but he’s almost positive Nines shifts the littlest bit closer.

“Thank you, Gavin.”

Not Detective Reed. _Gavin_.

“Don’t mention it,” Gavin says nonchalantly, knocking his knee into Nines’s leg.

Nines smiles. “I like the way you play.”

“In music talk, you basically just said you love me.” He tries to make it funny. It comes out far too serious.

Looking away, LED furiously flickering yellow, Nines murmurs, “And what if I meant it?”

A number of sarcastic rejoinders bubble up in Gavin’s throat— _haha, very funny, you’d be insane, the fuck are you on right now_ —but every single one dies in his mouth. All that escapes him is a gentle sigh.

“Well, what if you did?”

Nines ponders this. “I suppose, if I meant it, I would tell you I cannot provide for your every need. There are certain things that I was not programmed to do.”

They’re so close. Gavin could reach out and touch him right now, if he wanted. But he doesn’t. Instead, he shifts his body a little closer.

“And if you meant it,” Gavin says, inching toward Nines, “I would tell you that I don’t care.”

With that, Nines whips around to look at him, eyes glittering with the light of millions of stars. “If I meant it…” Nines hesitates. “If I meant it, I would ask you to kiss me.”

They’re in dangerous territory now. Gavin’s mind screams at him to back down, to run away, _you’re gonna fuck this up like you always do_ , but for once, he tunes it out. Things were always quieter out here.

“Do you mean it?”

Nines swallows thickly. “I do.”

“So?”

There’s a soft hand on Gavin’s cheek, and when he looks down, Nines’s synthskin is rapidly disappearing, leaving a luminescent blue trail in its wake that burns Gavin’s retinas. Now all he can see is the shadow of his partner’s features, lit but the swirling blue of his LED.

“So...” Nines says, so, so quietly. His hand trembles against Gavin’s skin. “Would you kiss me, Gavin?”

Gavin smiles.

“‘Course.”

Nines’s lips are cold from the wind, but so soft, and when he sighs into Gavin’s touch, the world seems to stop. It’s just them, insignificant them, under a canopy of stars showering them with light older than the ground they stand on. Gavin’s breaths fill the space between them, warming him to the core.

They break apart only a few moments later, but it feels like a millennium has passed, worlds forming and aging and dying and forming again, all in the span of milliseconds. Gavin laughs almost incredulously, leaning his forehead against Nines’s.

“You always manage to surprise me, you know that, Tin Can?”

“I like to think it’s one of my many talents,” Nines agrees smugly, fingers carding through the curls at the base of his skull.

Gavin snorts. “I hate you.”

There’s a pause where they just listen; to the wind, to the distant passing of a plane overhead, to their pulses, beating erratically in their chests.

Nines presses another gentle kiss to Gavin’s mouth. When he speaks, his words are carried by the breeze, flung to the distant corners of the world, but most importantly, they hover over Gavin’s lips in the absence of Nines’s breath.

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun playing with the traditional "sharing a bed" trope and figuring out how to make it slightly different.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://legendtripper.tumblr.com/) (@legendtripper) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/legendtripperb) (@legendtripperb)!
> 
> Leave a comment if you're feeling generous! I rearrange the letters to find the secret encrypted messages you don't even know you're leaving me.
> 
> Be sure to check out Octopunk Media's [Detroit: Evolution](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apUn-YMMdZ8) on YouTube, as well as its lovely director (Michelle Iannantuono) and cast (Maximilian Koger, Chris Trindade, Carla Kim, and Tiare Solís) wherever they can be found!
> 
> And, once again, here is your not-so-friendly reminder that this is a work of fiction and to kindly refrain from shipping Maximilian and Chris. I'm coming for your incisors.
> 
> Have a lovely timezone!


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